


The Twin Adventures of Phil Coulson

by fangirlSevera



Series: The Black Sheep and Other Family Animals [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, New Adventures of Old Christine
Genre: Crossover, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Humor, M/M, Twins, shaving accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/pseuds/fangirlSevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since he was in southern California already, dealing with Stark, Phil is forced to pay a visit to his brother and his brother's rather bizarre family.</p><p>There is the barest hint of pre-Clint/Coulson in this first one, all subsequent stories will be outright Clint/Coulson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Twin Adventures of Phil Coulson

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it was going to happen at some point. I tried avoiding it since I had only recently finished another crossover series about two characters played by the same actor being twins (and the comedic antics that ensue). I didn't want that to be my _thing_. But as usual, [cruelest_month](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month) talked me into it. 
> 
> Kay as their dad is Tumblr's fault.

Phil Coulson sat in his Malibu hotel room having once again been brushed-off for a meeting with Tony Stark. While he understood why Fury wanted to go softly-softly with this (the man was suffering from PTSD, and had a history of being less than cooperative when government agencies came on too strong), Coulson fondly recalled the more direct approach of obtaining assets, the kind that involved a tranq in the neck. Barton had finally forgiven him a few months ago.

His cell phone rang. He hoped it was Fury giving him the okay to just taser Stark and drag him unconscious to a debrief. "Coulson."

"Hear you're in California, son."

Phil sighed. Not his boss. "And how'd you hear that?"

"Through inter-agency cooperation."

"My dad and my boss being friends doesn't count as 'inter-agency cooperation.' It's taking advantage of personal relationships. My being here has nothing to do with your people, unless you're calling to tell me Stark's an extraterrestrial." 

"Nope. Stark's 100% earth believe it or not. I was just thinking, since you're already in the area..."

Phil knew exactly where this was going. "I'm working."

"I know, I know. I mean after you get Stark sorted. Nick's okay with giving you a couple personal days to visit family."

"What if I don't want to visit family?"

"I'm thinking about my grandson here, Phil. His father's a moron and his mother's a lunatic. He needs a positive adult influence in his life."

The call ended there. Phil sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He was almost grateful for Stark's press conference confession. The fall-out meant spending more days of postponing a visit to his brother and bizarre extended family. But then Fury had arrived to handle the situation personally. Phil tried to convince him to keep him on to at least ensure Pepper's cooperation. He liked Miss Potts, she was good company. She was smart, efficient, mature, everything he wouldn't get with his brother's family.

"Inter-agency cooperation," Fury had the audacity to say to him, sounding scarily like Phil's father.

"Blackmail more likely. Does dad have something on you?"

"Debts and favors make the world go around, agent."

With heavy resignation, Phil took out his own personal phone, the one registered under his birth name: Philip Campbell. He closed his eyes, grit his teeth and pressed 2 on his speed dial. He tried not to let the tension in his jaw color his voice once the call was connected. "Hey, Richard, what're you up to this weekend?

XXX

When he knocked on the door to Richard's apartment it was opened by his ridiculously young girlfriend. She blinked at Phil in surprise, then confusion, until finally the light of realization brightened her Bambi eyes. "Oh! Phil! Of course." She shook her head and smiled. "Richard said you were coming."

She stepped aside to let him in. They stood together in the small living room. "New Christine" (a monicker that spoke of the depth of the issues that came attached to Richard) fidgeted, pulling on her fingers. "So, nice flight?"

"I drove. From Malibu."

"Oh! Vacation?"

"Work."

"Of course." She bit her lip, desperately trying to think of small talk in the uncomfortable silence. Thankfully she gave up and just shouted, "Richard! He's here!"

The bedroom door opened and Phil was confronted with his brother. His twin brother. His overly-affectionate brother who spared no time getting Phil into a crushing hug. "Hey, man! Long time no see!" Richard pulled back and tugged on Phil's tie. "Looking good. But then, you always look good."

"Since I look like you, yes. Must stick to tradition and make that joke every time you see me," Phil said, smoothing his tie back down. "Look, I'm not going to mince words. I'm only here because Dad's forcing me."

If Richard was insulted, he didn't show it. Sometimes Phil's words were like water off a duck's back. Richard was probably convinced he didn't mean any of it and it was just good-natured, brotherly ribbing. "Oh yeah? How is the old bulldog?"

"Old. And bulldog-ish." 

"I can't wait to meet him!" New Christine said, sidling up to Richard's side. She kept looking between the two of them. She had done it when Phil had first met her. She just sat there, eyes going back and forth, like she was playing a "spot the difference" game. Couldn't have been that hard. Richard slouched and had terrible clothes. 

Before introducing him to New Christine, Richard had tried to get Phil to wear the same clothes as him, hoping to confuse her. Phil declined. It was juvenile and not at all as funny as Richard clearly thought it was. Richard had even wanted to try it back when he was still dating his current ex-wife (now dubbed "Old Christine" apparently. Seriously, there had to be better, less pathological ways to differentiate). He had refused then, too. Richard had even thought it'd be a "great gag" when he got married. Phil had thought of what a great gag his tie would make just to shut him the hell up.

"Well, I know you want to see Ritchie. So you should come with us to pick him up from his mom's place."

Agent Coulson of SHIELD never flinched. The slight twitching of fingers in his left hand was the only physical reaction to Richard's suggestion.

"Come on!" Richard said, putting an arm around Phil's shoulders and giving him a jostling squeeze. "She'll love to see you. It'll be fun!"

Despite the rumors of junior agents (and a certain sharp-shooting specialist), Coulson did know the meaning of the word "fun." He even indulged in it occasionally. Spending any time at his ex-sister-in-law's house did not fall under the definition of fun. 

XXX

Richard let himself into his ex-wife's house and took a bottle of water from the fridge before calling out, "Christine? Ritchie?"

"Just a minute!" A voice responded from further in the house.

New Christine patted Phil's hand and sat at the kitchen table, as comfortable there as she had been at Richard's apartment. There was some kind of self-help book on the table. She started flipping through it, giggling to herself at some of the highlighted passages.

"Hey, Richard?" came Christine's voice again. "Grab some gauze and antibiotic ointment and come to the bathroom!"

Without a single question, Richard grabbed the requested supplies from a cupboard and headed off in the direction of the demanding, disembodied voice. 

"I hope she's okay." New Christine frowned. "You don't think she's tried... I mean, she can get awfully sad and lonely sometimes."

"Don't worry. She's far too egocentric for that. It's probably just an unfortunate shaving accident. I'm sure we'll get the full details of it in five minutes."

Exactly five minutes later, Christine came out of the bathroom walking delicately, hissing in pain with every step. "Jesus! All we needed was a video camera and two guys in scrubs and it would've looked just like Ritchie's birth." She stopped in the living room, finally noticing the other people in her house. 

She gaped at Phil for a moment then turned and shouted angrily, "Dammit, Richard! Why didn't you tell me your brother was here?"

"Surprise!" Richard said with a less than apologetic grin. He was rubbing his hands with sanitizer.

"You're looking good, Phil," Christine said, sitting down with a grimace. "Still haven't seen you out of a suit."

"Not for a lack of trying," Phil reminded her. Even at her own wedding reception, Christine had tried to pull the "Oops, I'm so drunk I mistook you for my new husband!" routine when she landed in Phil's lap and started undoing his shirt.

New Christine leaned over. "Hi, Christine. I'm glad you haven't slit your wrists."

"What?"

"So, is Ritchie here?" Phil asked, trying to cut that line of conversation off at the tip. 

"Matthew took him out for ice cream. They should be back any minute." She shifted in her seat and hissed again.

"I still think you should go see if you need stitches."

"I don't need stitches, Richard. Don't be a baby."

"A person can bleed out from a femoral artery cut in three minutes," Phil informed them, checking his phone for messages. One read: _Re: Stark. v. smooth. C.B._

"Well, if you're that concerned Phil," she said with a smirk that was both flirtatious and mean. "Why don't you come check it out for yourself." She started to hitch-up the hem of her skirt.

"Hey, Mom!" Ritchie burst into the kitchen. Christine hastily rearranged her skirt.

"Ritchie," Christine said, rubbing her son's curly hair. "Look who's here, your uncle Phil!"

"Hi, Uncle Phil."

Christine's lanky brother followed a moment later. "I just want you to know that if the next time you use the A/C in the car and sprinkles burst from the vent? It's not my fault. Oh." He stopped and went wide-eyed at Phil. It was a common reaction with this family. 

"Hello, Matthew," Phil greeted him. "How have you been?"

"Good. I'm... Going. To my room..." He shuffled past Phil and made a break for it through the living room.

"Sorry," Christine apologized. "He still thinks you're like one of the agents from The Matrix."

"I've tried to explain what you really do," Richard said. "Doesn't help that I don't know really what you do."

"It's just a low-level bureaucratic position in a federal office in New York." Phil smiled convincingly. "Office work. Nothing exciting. Just like Dad."

"Uncle Phil!" Ritchie piped up. "What's my present?"

"Ritchie," Richard scolded as if he hadn't asked the exact same question when Phil removed the department store bag from his car.

Phil took out the toy he bought and handed it to his nephew who lit-up. "A Super Soaker! Cool!" Phil got a hug for it. Ritchie then sat next to New Christine and together they started to try and remove the water gun from its packaging and plastic ties.

"Wow, that is cool," Richard said with an obvious twinge of envy. "Not one of the cheap little ones either." He stared at Phil expectantly.

He sighed. "Yes, fine, I got you one, too." He removed the duplicate toy.

Richard grabbed it eagerly. "Aw, dude, you're the best!" 

Christine frowned. "I don't know if I like giving Ritchie toys that promote violence."

"What? Since when?" Richard asked, tearing into his own gun's packaging.

"I've always been anti-war." She started and quickly added pointedly at Phil, "But I also strongly support our troops. My Prius even had one of those yellow ribbon magnets once." 

Even if his current job was entirely classified, his military career (at least the first half of it) was not. It was only after his successes in covert missions was he pulled aside by his own father and finally told what it was exactly the old man did for a living and that he had a friend he wanted Phil to meet. 

Richard remained blissfully ignorant of all this.

"I love your brother, Phil," his dad had said, "But the boy can't keep a secret to save his life, much less be involved in secret government organizations."

Christine was still going on about gun control. Fortunately, Phil had a gift of foresight and knew exactly how to shut her up. He reached into the bag one more time and took out a bottle of mid-price wine. Christine immediately stopped confessing to never actually having seen Bowling for Columbine and cooed. She took the bottle from Phil's hand and simpered. "I always knew I married the wrong one." She winked and went for a corkscrew.

"Hey, Uncle Phil, can you help me fill it up?" 

"Sure, Ritchie." He took the unscrewed tank and filled it at the sink.

"Before you fire it," Richard said, butting into Phil's space to fill his own tank, "you have to build pressure with some pumping action, like this." He screwed the tank back on and demonstrated.

Christine, a full glass of wine in hand already, snorted. "You're an expert in pumping action, aren't you?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Funny. Come on, Ritchie. Let's see if we can hit the neighbor's windows from across the street."

Father and son excitedly went outside.

"You're so good with Ritchie, Phil. Have you thought about kids?" New Christine asked.

"Phil can't have kids," Christine declared, refilling her glass. "He's gay."

Phil closed his eyes and desperately called on all his training to not face-palm.

"I know that," New Christine said. "But he could adopt or find a surrogate."

Christine looked like she was about to spit out her drink. "That's right! Oh my God, Phil! I would _happily_ be your surrogate."

"That's a very generous and disturbing offer, but I don't have any plans for kids."

New Christine pouted. "Married to the work, huh?"

"It's the only thing that'll have him."

Phil completely ignored Christine's barb. "Work does keep me very busy. But that aside, I guess I'm old fashioned enough to believe the first step is having a partner, _then_ kids."

"Well, then no kids for you. When's the last time you've even had a date?" Christine finished her second glass.

"When's the last time you have?" Phil shot back.

Christine's face fell. "I have just... Last week I... A long time." She sheepishly admitted.

"I could set you up with someone," New Christine suggested to Phil. "There's a couple guys at the law office I work for."

"That's quite all right. Besides, I live on the other side of the country. Setting me up with someone from here won't work well."

"You never know..."

"Thank you, but I'm fine. Really." Phil reassured her with a smile. His phone buzzed then. Glad for any escape from the current conversation, he took it without looking. He made his apologies and moved out to the patio to talk. "Coulson."

"Heyyyyy, boss."

Barton. "Did you need something?" Phil asked his agent.

"Just wondering where you are since I know you're off the Stark thing. Way to rein him in, Coulson."

"I could tell you where I am, but then I'd have to kill you." There was a sharp gasp from the vicinity of Matthew's room, and a window quickly shut. 

Barton laughed. "Whatever. If it was that kind of job, you wouldn't have even answered your phone. Natasha says you're taking personal time. I told her I hadn't seen any pigs fly lately."

"I don't see how any of this is your business."

"Here's the thing: my handler isn't around. I don't get any missions. I get restless. You know what happens when I get restless."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're missing me."

"Maybe you don't know better."

Barton's tone had gone from teasing to something Phil wouldn't dare categorize as wistful. It wasn't the time, and definitely not the place for _that_ conversation. Though, it was going to happen soon. There was only so much denial Phil could take.

Before he could even take a breath to respond, Ritchie came running around the side of the house. 

"Uncle Phil! Uncle Phil!"

"What was-" Barton was trying to ask. But Phil quickly switched off his phone.

"Uncle Phil, I knocked a squirrel off a wire with my gun!"

Phil smiled. "That's very impressive, but let's try to stay away from animal endangerment from now on."

"Oh my God!" Richard came around the house laughing. "You should've seen the neighbor's cat run!"

Phil frowned in disapproval. Richard caught it and had the decency to hang his head a little.

"Are you staying for dinner, Uncle Phil?"

"Oh, I don't know Ritchie. That's up to your mother."

"I'll go ask!" Ritchie skipped back into the house.

"You're hoping she'll say no," Richard said.

"Every moment spent in this house is excruciating."

"But you'll stay if Ritchie wants you to."

"Of course."

"You're a good uncle."

"If I was, I'd be around more often."

"If dad was a better grandpa he wouldn't keep sending you as proxy."

"He's around when we need him."

The doors to the patio opened, Christine stuck her head out. "We're going to Red Lobster. Phil, it's your birthday!"

"Christine, we told them it was my birthday last week," said Richard. "I think they'll be suspicious if my obvious twin-"

"It was a long, difficult labor. You were born a week apart. Okay?" Christine disappeared back into the house, shouting for Ritchie to change his shoes.

"Red Lobster it is, then." Phil, accepting his fate for the evening, took off his tie and popped the button at his collar.

Richard gave him a sidelong look. "Wow, you really know how to go casual."

"Shut up. So, you want to get Matthew, or should I?"

"I want you to. But wear sunglasses and talk slow."

Matthew decided not to go to Red Lobster with them.


End file.
